I'm A Conlon
by AbbyH321
Summary: Re-written! Who ever knew Spot had a family? Spot sure didn't, but his family seems to believe differently.


Disclaimer: I don't own any Newsies characters, Disney does (which sucks). Although I own Abby, 'Alex', Uncle Jimmy etc.  
  
I knelt over the side of his grave. My father had died three days ago and I now will have to live with my uncle.   
  
"Why? Dad! Why?" I shouted to the sky. I was only eight and half years old at the time. My dad and I went through a lot together.   
  
My brother ran away when my mom died, leaving my dad and I alone. Now I was an orphan who would have to live with my uncle, whom I wasn't very fond of.   
  
"Come on," a voice said. I turned around to see my Uncle Jimmy. I stood up and kissed the gravestone, "I love you dad."   
  
I walked to my Uncle Jimmy. He picked me up and carried me to my new home.   
  
We got to sell the house my dad owned. But my Uncle Jimmy took it for himself. He said that I don't need any money and that I should be grateful that I have a home.   
  
I went upstairs to my new room and collapsed onto my bed within 5 seconds I had fallen asleep. I was asleep for three and a half hours.   
  
But little did I know that those three and a half hours would change my life forever.   
  
I had a dream during these three and a half hours, a dream like no other. I found myself going back five years to a scene that I had forgotten about in my life. I was a little over three years old and I shared a room with my brother Alex.   
  
I was lying in my bed crying. It was the middle of the night as I watched Alex empty his dresser and throw everything into his backpack.   
  
He put on a bunch of layers of clothing and his sneakers. "I have to go away," he was telling me, "Dad and I don't get along and…" he paused "I just have to go."   
  
"Why Alex?" I whispered. I was in tears but I was quiet because I was told not to wake dad up.   
  
"I'll be back," he said.   
  
"I don't believe you!" I told him. He reached for something around his neck. It was a piece of string with two keys on it.   
  
He sat on the floor and pulled up a loose floorboard, uncovering a bunch of photos of him and me. He took them and put them into our secret safe in the back of our closet. Then he locked the safe with one of the keys around his neck.   
  
Then he walked over and sat on the edge of my bed, "it was mom's time to leave us, and it's my time to leave this house," he said. I still didn't believe he would be coming back anytime soon.   
  
"Here," he said taking one of the keys off the string around his neck, "You can remember me anytime you want to by opening the safe."  
  
He handed me the key and pulled a loose string off his shirt. He put the string through the keyhole and tied it around my neck. "See? Now we match," he said reassuringly.  
  
"Cool," I said. Then Alex hugged me, "I love you kiddo," he said. "I love you too," I told him. Then he stood up and walked out of the room.   
  
I woke up and realized something. If Alex could leave, so could I. I was determined to find him.   
  
I jumped out of bed and grabbed my suitcase (I hadn't unpacked yet). I started to head out the door but I went into the kitchen, took out a piece of paper and a pen and write a note to my Uncle Jimmy.   
  
Uncle Jimmy-   
  
I went to find Alex.   
  
-Abby  
  
I went out the front door to realize that it was very cold. I opened my suitcase and pulled out a sweatshirt. I put it on a resumed my journey.   
  
I planned on going to the center of Manhattan, but I had some unfinished business to take care of.   
  
I walked eight blocks to my old house. A new family already occupied it. I placed my suitcase down and jumped the fence (I was taught by Alex and had done it so many times before) into the backyard.   
  
I went to the window of my old room. Luckily, it was already wide open. I climbed in to find a little boy sleeping in my old bed.   
  
I slowly crept over to the closet and reached behind the clothes to find the opening to a safe. I took the key off my neck and opened it.   
  
"Yes!" I whispered to myself. I swung open the door and pulled out three pictures, a rock and an old watch. I looked at each of the pictures.   
  
The first one was Alex holding me when I was an infant, the second of Alex and me on his eighth birthday and the third a picture of my dad, Alex, and me in Central Park.   
  
I stuck all three pictures in my pocket, and then I looked at the rock. It was small, pink, and shiny. It was so soft and smooth. I put it in my other pocket.   
  
Then I looked at the watch. It stopped telling time. It was really big and silver.   
  
You could tell it was really old, yet still very well taken care of. I put it on my wrist.   
  
Then I closed the safe and put the key back around the string on my neck. I jumped out the window, hopped the fence and headed back down the street with my suitcase.  
  
I had been walking for what felt like forever, but the sun was just starting to come up.   
  
The neighborhood I was in seemed to be awakening. I thought myself to be somewhere in Manhattan, but I had never been here before so I wasn't positive.   
  
I was so tired I just wanted to collapse, my suitcase felt so heavy. I walked a few more blocks and saw a restaurant called Tibby's.   
  
I walked inside and sat at a booth, where I ordered a bagel with cream cheese. I loved cream cheese. I engulfed the bagel and paid the waiter.   
  
Then I headed back outside. I passed a couple of hotels but none of which I could afford.   
  
I heard the laughter of a lot of children in the distance and followed the sounds. I found myself face to face with the entranceway to a park.   
  
I walked into the commons a found a bench. I lay across the bench with my suitcase underneath my head. Within thirty seconds I was asleep.   
  
I awoke to find myself still on the bench, but I wasn't alone.   
  
Sitting on the end of the bench where my feet were, was a teenage boy, about seventeen years old, wearing a red bandana.   
  
"Hi," he said.   
  
"Hi," I quietly answered back. I was a very shy kid.   
  
"What's your name?" he asked me.  
  
I sat up, "Abby," I said, looking down to my lap. I didn't want to look him in the eyes. He was older and a lot bigger then me, even if he did seem really nice.   
  
"I'm Jack," he said, "How old are you Abby?" I hesitated but then told him I was eight. I still had my head down and I was swinging my feet back and forth.  
  
"Where do you live?" he asked me. I didn't answer him. I just kept my head down and swung my legs (they didn't reach the ground). "Where do you live Abby?" he asked again, this time a little more sternly.   
  
I knew I had to give him a response so I shrugged my shoulders.   
  
"I saw you fall asleep out here this morning around eight," he said, "and it's five in the afternoon now. Abby, do you have a place to sleep tonight?" I shrugged my shoulders again. "Well then, would you like to come with me?" he asked.   
  
I took a moment of thought and then quickly nodded my head. I held Jack's left hand and he carried my suitcase with his right. We slowly left toward Jack's home.   
  
We walked about ten blocks when we came to a building. A sign on the front read: Newsboys Lodging House.   
  
He took me inside. "Hey Kloppman!" he said to an elderly gentleman behind a desk.   
  
"Hey Jack," he answered. Then he noticed me, "and who is this?" he asked.   
  
"This is my friend Abby," Jack told him, "and she's going to stay here tonight." Jack dropped two cents on the desk and took me upstairs.   
  
As we climbed the steps I could hear a lot of conversation. It sounded like teenage boys.   
  
As we reached the top step I froze. I just stopped walking I was so nervous.   
  
"Come on," Jack said to me. But I didn't go. "What's the matter?" he asked me, sitting down on the top step.  
  
"Are they mean?" I quietly asked him. "No, of course not," he answered quickly, "they are my friends."   
  
He stood up again and I followed him into a huge room filled with bunk beds.   
  
Slowly the room quieted and everyone was staring at me.   
  
"This here," Jack said looking at me "is Abby. She is eight years old and will be staying here for a couple of nights."   
  
"Hi," I said. I stood looking at about fifty boys between the ages of 12 and 18.   
  
"Come on," Jack said looking down at me.   
  
I followed him to the fifth bunk bed and he dropped my suitcase on the lower bunk.   
  
"You can sleep here," he told me, "and my bunk is right on top of yours. Ok?"   
  
I nodded my head.   
  
"I'll be right back," he said, and left to go talk to some of the older boys. I slid my suitcase underneath my bed.   
  
I looked around at everyone. They seemed really friendly.   
  
"Hello!" I looked to my right to see a boy with a patch over his left eye sitting on the other side of the bed.   
  
"I'm Kid-Blink, but you can call me Blink," he said holding out his hand. I shuck it by replying, "I'm Abby."   
  
"Have you ever sold papes before?" he asked. I shuck my head no. "Do you want me to teach you tomorrow?" he asked. I nodded with a big smile.   
  
He put his hand on my head and messed up my hair with a smile on his face then he left and went to talk with his friends.   
  
I sat on my bed wondering if I should ask any of them if they know of an Alex. But why would Alex come to Manhattan? What if he wasn't even in New York?   
  
I stopped thinking about this stuff and closed my eyes, soon enough I had fallen asleep.  
  
"WAKE UP!" was the words that awoken me the next morning.   
  
It took me a minute to realize where I was, but then it clicked. I got out of bed and went over to one of the sinks.   
  
I splashed water on my face and went back over to the bunks.   
  
"Hey Squirt," I heard someone say. It was Jack; he was standing behind me. I turned around.   
  
"Hi," I said. I went over to my bunk and started to make my bed. A bunch of the newsies started to stare at me as if I was doing something wrong. But I continued to make my bed.   
  
"Let's go Abby," Blink said and he put his hand on top of my head again, messing up my hair. I followed him down the stairs, but something was weird, they were all singing.   
  
All of a sudden there was this huge mysterious orchestra blasting this music but they were nowhere in sight.   
  
I stopped straight in my tracks; this was weird. Blink came running back to me "just ignore it, and come on," he put me on his shoulders and I laughed as he ran through the streets singing this six-minute song.   
  
Then all of a sudden it stopped. It was like they planned this whole thing. When did they rehearse?   
  
When we got to the Distribution Office I started to look around for Alex. Maybe he would still be selling in Manhattan.   
  
I stood on the ramp and peered out over the crowds of newsies, looking for any signs telling me that it was him.  
  
"What are you looking at?"   
  
I jumped off of the ramp and walked to the back of the line with Blink, to where all of his friends were.  
  
"Nothing," I told him, "just looking."  
  
He shrugged it off and after about ten minutes of waiting in line Blink and I finally reached the front desk.   
  
"What do I do?" I whispered to Blink.  
  
He started to laugh, "just watch me," he said. He walked up to the desk and took a coin out of his pocket. "100 papes please," he said.  
  
He was given 100 newspapers and put them over his shoulder. Then he signaled for me to go.  
  
I nodded and went up to the counter, me eyes just peering over the desk.   
  
"May I have twenty papers please?" I said the most formal way I could.   
  
Blink started to laugh. The guy passed twenty papes under the bar and I put the papers over my shoulders like the other boys did.   
  
"I sell over in Central Park, follow me and stay close," Blink told me.   
  
"What am I supposed to do with these?" I asked him as we walked a couple of blocks.   
  
"You sell them," he responded with a slight snicker.   
  
"How?" I asked. I was told in the past that I never shut-up and I think Blink was finding this out.   
  
"Well, first you gotta scream the headlines of the papes and people will come up to you and by them," he sounded as if he never had explained this before.   
  
I think he sensed I was about to ask another question, "they cost one penny each," he told me.   
  
We walked right into Central Park and I saw the bench that I had been on a mere 24 hours ago. 


End file.
